Hope is Just Around the Corner
by daichi-tsukino
Summary: A depressed Izaya wondered the city he loved so much, hoping to find an answer. Sure enough, the answer he yearned for appears to him in the form of a bartender. Bartender!Shizuo AU.


**AN:** **Just something sweet I wrote a few months back. ****Enjoy!**

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><p>The raven-haired man walked in the dark, yet bright and busy streets of Ikebukuro.<p>

He had no particular destination and simply let himself be taken by where the wind wished to travel, hoping it would lead him to some place that could soothe his troubled mind.

Sometimes not even the smartest people knew how to fix themselves and end their own agony.

For a few years now he felt as if his life lacked a purpose, an objective, a meaning. He had everything a man his age could ask for, yet nothing ever actually made him feel complete. Everything that he thought made him happy was only temporary, as coldness and sorrow soon enveloped him once more.

All the people walking around him looked so happy with themselves, with their lives.

He envied them, wishing, wondering if happiness would find him if he wondered in these streets enough - because on his own he was sure he wouldn't find any.

As if to interrupt him from his gloomy thoughts, he suddenly felt a water drop fall on his nose.

_Weird. The weather report didn't predict any rain for today. _

But soon enough, a heavy downpour was brought upon the unsuspecting city of Ikebukuro, drenching everyone in its path.

He decided to take cover in the nearest open facility before he got soaking wet, maybe wait for the rain to calm down and then leave once more.

Many tables and booths were scattered across the dim-lit, yet surprisingly classy place, a long wooden counter with many tall chairs around it.

The raven-haired man sighed softly - he had entered a bar. _How cliché of me_, he thought.

Behind the counter, a blonde man in formal wear and blue sunglasses cleaned the counter with a cloth. He looked up at the raven, momentarily pausing his actions, and then looked back at the wooden surface, resuming his task at a faster pace than before.

He approached the bartender and sat down in the seat closest to him, crossing his legs and resting his cheek in his palm.

What a curious individual. Why was his hair blonde? Was he a former delinquent or just a foreigner? If he could just take off those sunglasses he'd have one less question in his brain for now.

The blonde man put the cloth away after a few moments and rushed to the raven, who had been eyeing him carefully.

"Sorry for the wait, I need to keep it clean as often as possible," he said in a stoic expression. "So, what can I get you?"

The raven shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the inevitable question, his neutral expression turning into one of discomfort - he didn't really enjoy drinking. "Surprise me."

The bartender looked at him for a few seconds longer, before turning and getting a glass and placing it on the table. "You okay with scotch?"

The raven shrugged in response. The blonde nodded and grabbed a bottle from under the counter, poring its contents into the glass, filling it halfway through. He put the bottle under the counter once more and looked at the raven. "Want ice with it?"

He shook his head in response. He felt cold enough as it is, no need to make it worse.

The blonde nodded, observing the man as he smelled the drink with a curious, yet displeased look on his face. He took a sip from the glass, looking as if swallowing it had been a struggle. Everything about this man irradiated pain; his eyes, the way his slender body moved when he talked, the way he held onto the drink as if he'd fall into despair if he let it go.

As a bartender, he had seen many people in a similar state as his; and as a bartender, he felt complied to lend them a hand and try to help them with his words. "My wife and kids left me", "I got fired", "My father died", "I'm broke". With every problem, he tried his best by giving them some advice or simply a comforting word or two.

Somehow, he felt as if this man was a different from the others. He felt as if this man had so much about him that was left undiscovered, that if he didn't say the right words, the raven would remain a pained mess for the rest of his life. It was sort of idiotic to make such a drastic assumption out of someone's aura and body language, but the blonde couldn't care less as he regarded the lost look in the guy's eyes.

He walked up to him and rested his hands at the edge of the counter. "What's wrong?"

The raven-haired man looked up at him, a surprised expression on his face that soon shifted into embarrassment, his head lowering slightly and his eyes averting the bartender's every now and then. "I, hum… I don't drink. I just needed some shelter while it ra-"

"That's not what I asked," the other interrupted calmly. "And I'm pretty sure everyone else in this bar could see that."

The raven's cheeks heated up in embarrassment. "Then I don't know what you're asking me." He let out a nervous, dry laugh as he spoke and ran a hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his neck as a form of self-reassurance, for he began to grow anxious.

The bartender scoffed. "Come on, you look miserable. Talking about it to a stranger sometimes helps you think clearer. That's my job."

"I thought your job was to serve drinks."

A smirk made its way to the blonde's lips at the other's cold reply. "It is, it is. But sometimes you need talk to someone instead of keeping it all bottled up. That's also my job. Well, at least morally."

The raven stared at the blonde man for a while, trying to make a decision on weather or not to blurt out how miserable he was. The man stared back at him through his sunglasses. He seemed pretty determined on offering some help and that determination alone could be considered a reason to talk, perhaps.

Though those sunglasses were pissing him off.

"What's with the sunglasses?" He blurted out the question without giving it much thought.

The bartender gave him a confused, surprised look.

"It's just that if I'm going to say anything about my personal life to a stranger, I want to at least see his eyes," he answered the unvoiced question nonchalantly. He then gave him a smirk as he continued. "You know, they say the eyes are the window to the soul. I simply feel a little distant from you with those sunglasses covering everything."

"Ah, sorry," he replied in a quiet manor before taking them off and placing them aside.

With his sharp, honey coloured eyes exposed, the raven grinned. "So you _are_ Japanese." The blonde gave him a questionable look that made him let out laugh. "Sorry, it's just that your hair…"

The bartender's expressions softened at the clarification and smiled. "Yeah, I bleach my hair."

"I just wasn't sure, since delinquents don't exactly work in classy establishments like this one."

The blonde smiled fondly at the content man before him. To think that he was feeling miserable mere moments ago, both warmed his heart and got him nervous. Warmed his heart because he empathised with those who found happiness amidst sorrow; made him nervous because in that sudden contentent state he could drastically change moods at the slightest trigger and go back to square one.

"So is it just for style, or is there some deeper meaning to it?" The raven threw him the question with eyes shining in glee.

He sighed and frowned. Sure, he was enjoying the conversation - a lot, in fact - but he couldn't just let the raven-haired man continue averting the actual subject at hand.

"Look, we can talk about me for the rest of the night if you want, but we'll first talk about you. That's what you agreed to before I took my sunglasses off, am I right?"

The raven looked down at his drink, and attempted to take another sip. He then looked up at the blonde with a sad smile on his face. "I honestly have great difficulty when it comes to talking about my feelings, so this might take a while."

The other nodded and decided to push him a bit into opening himself up.

"So what happened? What got you into feeling this way?" He asked carefully, trying not to push him too hard.

The raven shifted in his seat, focusing his vision on a random object behind the blonde. His expressions seemed pained and the words that escaped him, answering the bartender, were weak and strained. "I don't know."

The bartender regarded him carefully. "Explain that better."

He took another sip from the drink in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's… It's like I'm going nowhere with my life… Like I have no reason to live, no objective…"

The blonde didn't talk, remaining silent and occupying himself with cleaning whichever dirty cups he found in the sink.

After his initial statements, the raven's lips then curled upward in a bitter smile. "You know, which is pretty odd considering I have everything a man my age could even wish of achieving… Killer apartment, successful freelance business that I enjoy, great health, loving family…"

"Yet you feel like you lack a purpose?"

"Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?" He chuckled. "My life's a joke."

The blonde frowned in anger. "Don't talk about yourself that way," he raised his voice, causing the raven to snap out of his self-loathing trance and to look at the man before him directly. "You just need to find out what's missing! It isn't a sin to be unaware of what you need…"

"But…" he said in a weak voice.

The raven had mentioned so many blessings he possessed, but he didn't mention having companionship. He didn't mention any friends, didn't mention a partner. Is that what could be missing in his life?

He thought back on their previous conversation, on the way his dark eyes glistened in genuine happiness as he spoke.

_So that's it. The guy is lonely._

"What's your name?" He decided to ask.

The raven-haired man looked into the blonde's warm eyes hesitantly before actually answering.

"Orihara Izaya."

The blonde smiled softly. "What an odd name."

Izaya chuckled. "I know. You should check out my sisters' names, they're equally odd."

"Really?" The blonde laughed, both amused at the conversation and glad to see the other happy again, although it somewhat concerned him that he'd fall into depression once more if he didn't have enough human interaction.

"Yeah, they're called Mairu and Kururi. Our parents are the oddest at name-giving."

With each happy word he let out, he felt his heart warm up, little by little, like a cup of hot chocolate milk on the cold, snowy night that was his life.

"Not really, I mean, Izaya's a really nice name, in my opinion," he commented.

"Ah, thanks," he answered timidly, the bartender grinning at the raven's reaction to his compliment.

The last time he had been complimented was by one of his clients on the job he did. Izaya smiled, though still feeling a bit embarrassed. "What's yours, by the way?"

"Hm?"

"Your name."

"Ah, yes," he chuckled. "It's Heiwajima Shizuo."

"You've got quite the name yourself. Are you as calm as it indicates you to be, or not really?"

Shizuo let out a nervous laugh. "Not really… I lose my temper easily."

"You serious? You look like a pretty calm person!"

The hours passed as they talked seemingly endlessly. They laughed together and shared stories, Izaya's heart filling with something he didn't remember ever having. Shizuo would serve customers, clean the glasses, would take smoking breaks, but wouldn't stop talking to Izaya. It was as if that man was a drug, giving you that amazing rush that made you feel alive and the mere idea of separating with it, getting you on edge.

They talked till closing time, with the promise that they would talk once again and soon. Little did the raven know, he would be running back to that same place the next day and not a few days later due to the yearning he felt during the entire night and day that followed their first meeting. He had forgotten his sadness, as it had been cured miraculously by the simple interaction with that blonde man, every word that came out of his mouth providing him with the happiness he wanted and deserved.

The butterflies in his stomach at the mere thought of him during the day got him living with a different vigour than before. He worked in a happier manor, walked in a more energetic manor, thought in a more positive manor. After a few nights at the bar, Shizuo suggested they started meeting up during the day instead, which left Izaya ecstatic as he gave out his phone number to him.

They met up at many places such as Izaya's favourite coffee shop, where they spent the entire time talking about their highschool days; the cinema, where they watched an action movie; Shizuo's apartment, where the blonde cooked him his stir-fry specialty; but their favourite day together was without a doubt the day they went to the park, for it was the day they shared their first kiss.

From that moment onward, it wasn't just the blonde's words that made him happy - it was the words, along with the kisses, the touches and those silent moments where it wasn't necessary to say a single word, as the looks they shared were the only form of communication they needed in order to understand what each felt and wanted to say.

The raven-haired man never knew once more what being lost felt like, for the blonde was there to help him get back on his feet.

Never again did he see the face of desperation within his soul, for he had Shizuo, who granted him with eternal happiness and support.

Never again did he feel his life had no point and objective, for the love him and Shizuo shared was what life was worth living for.

All thanks to that wonderful, rainy night. All thanks to the wind in which he had trusted to take him to where he needed to be. All thanks to insane plans the city of Ikebukuro had offered its residents.


End file.
